The Battle of Freedom
by Alexandria di Angelo
Summary: The Battle of Freedom lasted seven years in the early 2100's. When Alex di Angelo, the daughter of a colonel, is met by memories that she can't explain, life as she (and all mortals) turns for the worse as she delves deeper into the mystery surrounding her past. With betrayal, survival, romance, action, and suspense around every corner, will she find out who she really is?
1. Prologue

**The Battle of Freedom**

 **By: Alexandria Di Angelo**

 **Prologue**

Long ago, before 2100, Earth was in its happiest and most prosperous times. A global "Pax Romana," if you will. There was peace and unity with all of the countries in the world, as there once was long before our time. The population had reached a reasonable birth and death rate, the lifespan of the average human had increased to 130 years, and the world was ruled by one government that controlled all things with righteousness. Everything was as it should have been; but history grew murky after twenty-seven years of records only showing prosperity, leaving no sign of trouble for anyone to question. Near the end of this period, an airborne pathogen unknown to forensic scientists spread and left its victims with symptoms of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease **.** The public grew frightened and demanded answers, which couldn't be given while no powerful entity was in office, so the call for a new government rang out across the globe. As a result of the gradual weakening of government during the golden times, a political party called Sector 16 emerged to take up the yoke of ruling the nations of the world with an iron fist. The group was composed of the oldest and ugliest boogers you could imagine from each Sanctuary on the globe, but no one ever saw the people who made up our new government, except for those on Death Row. Shortly after their inauguration, the word had gotten around about a biochemical terrorist being responsible for the outbreak of CCJD. Ironically, a group called Hexxa emerged two months later and claimed to be the biochemical terrorist group that Sector 16 had told us about, allowing an increase of mass panic and chaos to ensue. To paint themselves as the saviors in our darkest times, Sector 16 officially declared war on Hexxa to the public in 2109, ensuring that they would be solely responsible for "finishing what the enemy started." Surprisingly, recruits came flooding in for Hexxa, due to its diplomats falsely advertising benefits against the side effects of the war that would ensue for both themselves and their families. Once the amount of followers of Hexxa was deemed uncontrollable by Sector 16 alone, a group of active soldiers and veterans was called upon to help bring order to the different Sanctuaries in Sector 16's power. This group's members were later named The Cleansers, as they were called upon to "cleanse" the Sanctuaries of their biochemical plagues.

The war lasted seven years, I was told. When the war began, the concept of keeping track of time proved to be more of a nuisance than a benefit to my schedule of wiping out Hexxa and training in my free time. I trained harder than anyone that I knew, including my commanding officer, Colonel Nicholas (or "Colonel A" to the greenhorns in my regiment). I knew that I wasn't normal, though, because I was isolated from my comrades in the first year of us fighting together. I didn't fatigue as fast as others did during training and I ran faster, pertained more information, had more insight on potential battle strategies, invented new techniques of stealth, and cared more about defeating the enemy to protect everyone that I could save than everyone of the men and women among The Cleansers. After falling into a schedule of training, running, studying, and sparring to keep myself busy, I lost track of how long we were in the war after three years.

After surpassing all limits set for officers in my regiment, I was promoted to commanding an elite group of The Cleansers, a handful of soldiers who exceeded all of my father and Sector 16's expectations. With my regiment, I felt more at ease with being the soldier I was, because they were like me: faster, stronger, wiser, and stealthier than those around them. After a while, I alone was sent to provide aid to a weakening force overseas, which was child's play once I stepped onto the field. I wiped out the enemy located there in one fell swoop, then was shipped back home to my original post. After my return, I was informed upon my orders to train with my soldiers that they were dead, murdered in an old camp for Hexxa's prisoners and test subjects. I almost believed the lies that I had been told when the news finally registered. Then, Colonel A told me that the government had led them to the camp as part of Operation Nightingale, which was a classified assignment to test out new stealth neurotechnology. Once they were electrocuted by the backfire of their equipment, the Forensics department of Sector 16 was ordered to capture them and run tests on their dead corpses. It turns out that my soldiers had a rare fungus growing over their brains that had enhanced their physical and mental functions, which explained their excellency in everything that they did. Apparently, the government feared that they might join Hexxa or rebel against them, so they had my men murdered like pigs in a slaughterhouse.

I took the loss lightly. I couldn't afford to let it get in the way and affect me in a way that might jeopardize someone's life, so I became apathetic about it and moved on. I didn't want to drown myself in sorrow for what their lives might have been had they not died; it's unhealthy for a person to do such things to themselves, and it brings dishonor to the deceased's memory. I moved on and made their legacy live on by fighting for them after their funerals. I ended up defeating Hexxa at its roots when I killed their leader on a mission almost a year ago, and I spent the rest of that year overseeing the containment and demise of the followers that still remained. On April 11th of 2116, Sector 16 announced the demise of Hexxa to the public and declared that the war, which had plagued us and taken our freedom away for far too long, was finally over.

I live in a two-story house that used to be a mansion before the war corrupted the surface of the grand establishment. My father had used it as a base about six years ago, right when the war started getting ugly, but he gave me the house as a reward for accomplishing several missions that violated at least twenty-seven of the codes (in over sixteen countries alone) that I had sworn to uphold as the Commander of the only elite force on our (-err, the government's) side. I had invited my bunk-mate and combat partner Hannah to stay with me, since it was a big house and it had tons of room, and we've lived there ever since. We got back in it ten months ago after we had been sent overseas to a Sanctuary that required assistance in strengthening its defense, and repaired the disarray the house had gone into the day that we got home. We fixed up some things that had gone astray in our absence, such as the dishwasher, the security system, the garage turned training arena, and so on. In about three months' time, the house had returned to its originally glorious state and has remained that way to this day. A fellow fire-team member named Collin came by three weeks ago and interviewed me about the struggles of going through the war as the Commander of the elite force and the supposed "savior of the world". He published the book he had been writing during the war two days ago, and I received an autographed copy in the daily post. I'd been reading it ever since I first took hold of it. I went to bed and read it with my flashlight last night until about three in the morning, so I had been sleeping pretty soundly until I began to dream of a past battle that still brought tears to my eyes.

I was in a airship with my fire-team, gearing up and loading my pistols as the clatter of the loose objects inside the cabin gave me a headache. Hannah, the medic of my team at the time, was humming a little tune we had made up in boot camp a few years after the war started. I smiled and hummed along with her as we prepared for battle. I remembered about something of mine that she had and asked, "Hannah, can you toss me my earbuds?" She groaned and said, "Would it kill you to fight these buggers without music for once?" I shook my head, saying, "Yes! Besides, instead of listening to them scream bloody murder, I can listen to my new playlist on my iPod!" She scoffed jokingly and threw my earbuds across the cabin, which I caught without even looking up from checking my equipment. As I plugged them in, I finished gearing up and put on my earbuds before grabbing my helmet and loading my guns. I stood next to Connor, the heavy of my team, and asked, "Ready to claim another territory back?" Peter, the strategist, scoffed in distaste and stuffily replied, "Why do you sound so cheery about it? You do realize that this isn't a game, right? The people in this territory you're so desperate to claim are too sick for us to help and you're acting like you're a kid waking up on Christmas day. Doesn't that, I don't know, make you question the reason why you're still alive?" I huffed at his saucy attitude, "This is war. I don't know if you've been paying attention to the news lately, but there's no longer anyone in this territory that can be cured. To avoid another outbreak, we have to put them down before we have hell to pay for it. You have to understand that one side can't have a flawless victory. Besides, who put a twist in your pannies, sweetheart?" Quiet chuckles escaped from the rest of our fire-team, and I smirked a little at my own boldness.

Suddenly, the aircraft shook as Peter went to retaliate my biting exposition. I hit my head against the wall of the cabin and groaned before fumbling around for the comm on the wall. I finally found it amidst my dizziness and shouted, "Captain, what's going on up there?!" in the mic. I heard an unearthly snarl on the other end and froze in fear as gunshots rang out while someone cried, "The captain's dead, sir! Infected breached our cabin, and now I'm the only one left!" I gained control of myself and asked, "Can you at least get us somewhat down near the battlefield?" The pilot sighed and said, "I'm not making any promises that it'll be a smooth landing, but I can try to get you down closer." I nodded and replied, "That'll do. Keep your eyes out for any other Infected; we still need a ride home, soldier." He shouted, "I'll do my best, sir!" as a set of steel doors to my left creaked open.

The foul, intoxicated air whipped around us and made me gag at the smell of dementia-inducing chemicals, my head spinning as my nausea worsened. "Helmets on!" I screamed as I fought the urge to heave on the cabin floor, my helmet creating a barrier of fresh air to breathe as I slipped it on. My fireteam followed suit, their helmets lighting up green when they were secure. After my vertigo had faded away, I reached around on my person and clicked "Play" on my iPod, "Bangerang" by Skrillex starting as an automatic voice blared over the PA system in the cabin, "You are now hovering over the drop zone." I walked up to the doors, my steel-covered toes hanging off the edge of the floor, and turned around to my team. As I looked at each one's face, I grinned and said, "Let's get our game on!" before I leaned and fell backwards out of the ship, the wind racing through my hair as I dove into the battlefield.

After falling for a minute or so, I watched as Hannah hovered by my side and gave me a sign that showed she was ready to fight, then saw Peter and Connor do the same. I decided I had fallen freely long enough and activated the jetpack on my battle suit, motioning for my companions to do the same. Soon, my fireteam and I were in a diamond formation as we caught sight of what we were up against. Thousands of Infected were scrambling around, their boil-covered arms and bleeding bodies mashing against each other as they mindlessly moved. I shouted, "Break formation!" and watched as we all rocketed off in four different directions, my body still rushing forward to the mass of the chemically-deranged crowd. I rolled as I came in for a landing and stood up, the mass of Infected surrounding me still trying to process what had just happened. I pulled out two blasters and felt a rush of adrenaline course through my body as I said, "Let's dance, freaks."

I jumped up and shot three Infected down, enraging the crowd and starting a chain reaction as I wiped out five more. After two minutes of fighting, I had taken down fifty-three or so Infected, which was saying something for working alone. Hannah leapt in and jumped on one of the Infected, using its monstrous head as a cushion for her landing. She whipped her red hair back and said, "I've killed forty-eight so far. How many have you gotten?" as she dodged an attack from a skinny Infected called a Scout. I shouted "Fifty- four! Watch out!" as a bloated one rushed forward while Hannah unleashed a whip made out of copper wire and cracked it on the Infected as she jumped up, her whip slicing an arm off of the corpulent beast as she hovered above it with her jet pack. "You know you have a lot more range up here, right?" she shouted as one leapt up and she dove to attack it. I jumped up, slipped my leg around the bloated Infected's neck, and replied, "Yeah, I know! I just like for things to feel a little personal when I fight!" As I asphyxiated the monster, it reached its remaining arm up at me as it lost consciousness and fell, shaking the ground as I landed on its stomach. The flesh burst, sending blood and other liquids flying, and the wipers on my helmet struggled to eradicate the sticky yellow and red stains on the glass. I groaned as Hannah laughed and said, "Yep, can't get much more personal than that." I stuck my tongue out at her and shook like a dog, flinging some of the liquids on my suit onto her by accident. She groaned and shouted, "I just cleaned my suit this morning!" I chuckled at her whining until I heard Peter's voice shout in my helmet, "Alex, Connor's down! His suit's been breached!"

As Hannah and I zoomed through the crowd of Infected surrounding our teammates, I body-slammed into a trio of the freaks and rolled into the circle of fire that Peter had started to keep most of the monsters at bay. I leaned next to Connor, who was laying on his back, and said, "How bad is it?" He turned over and showed the point of his breach, a gaping hole that dripped with poisoned blood as the toxic air around us married with the opening on his neck. He wheezed, "I'm sorry. I endangered the mission. Leave me behind, I'm useless now." I shook my head and said, "We make our stand here and now, and none of us are leaving you," standing and pressing my blasters together to make a set of modified compound bow and arrow. I raised my bow in the air and shot two arrows, their tips igniting as they soared through the air. When they collided, an explosion of purple and black permeated the sky, hovering right over our location for our pilot to come rescue us. After ten minutes of combat, we were almost overwhelmed by the mass of Infected and low on ammunition. I threw my bow down in anger, slipped on a pair of brass knuckles with spikes, and shouted, "Don't stop! Keep fighting!" As I prepared to defend my teammate until the very end, a bright light shone in the sky and blinded us, driving the throb of Infected away.

A helicopter landed in the new clearing in front of us and men in metal hazmat suits rushed forward, pushing through our circle of defense to see Connor's condition. He twitched and thrashed around, the toxins in his system making him turn into one of the enemy's pawns. The men backed away as a primal growl escaped Connor's lips, his eyes swelling and bulging as he went rogue. He leapt on top of Hannah and madly swiped around her suit, trying to create an opening to contaminate her as well. She screamed out loud as he pinned her arms down and went to deliver the final blow until a bullet went straight through his helmet and out his forehead. I watched in shock as Connor fell to the ground, his body slumping forward as he died. Hannah met Peter's gaze as I realized he was the one responsible for killing our teammate, his hands shaking as he held his gun out. The hazmat team came back and pried the gun from his hands as they took him and Hannah into the helicopter, the words, "I'm sorry, old friend," echoing in the air as I was left alone. I slumped to the ground and turned Connor over, cradling his Infected head in my hands as I felt a single tear run down my face. I looked at Connor and said, "Get up, soldier." His unresponsive body angered me and I screamed, "GET UP!" I sobbed and continued to shout at him as I felt myself shake uncontrollably. Suddenly, I watched everything fade away and gasped as I continued to shake.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Loss**

"Get up, Alex! Recognizaton Service is today, and we don't want to be late!"

So much for catching up on all of the sleep I'd lost.

I slowly opened my eyes, taking in the state of excitement that Hannah was in. For once, she'd pulled her red hair up and it wasn't attacking my face as she leaned over me. Once she knew that I was up, she backed off and left the room. I sat up and put my glasses on, realizing that it was a quarter after eight. I scolded myself for sleeping in so late, then slowly crawled out of bed and trudged to the closet. I drowsily rummaged through the rack, looking for something to wear that wouldn't be too much or too little when I went to Recognization. Finally, I picked out a grey tank top, combat boots, cargo pants, my aviator jacket, and my white bandanna. I changed out of my pajamas, which consisted of a black sleeveless shirt and yoga pants, and stood at my dresser to fix my hair. Before doing so, I opened one of the drawers and pulled out a silver-colored box, lifting the lid tenderly as I reached inside. My fingers slipped around a metal chain and pulled out a necklace with a disc-looking pendant on the end, which took residence just under the dip in my collarbone once I put the necklace on. After that, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and walked to the kitchen. The smell of coffee enveloped my senses, tempting me with its sweet aroma as I drew closer to one of the cabinets. I took a cup out and poured some coffee for myself, watching the steam haphazardly rise off of the black liquid. I added ice cubes and sugar, then took my cup with me to the back porch. It was chilly outside, and I had to grab onto the railing to keep from blowing away with the wind.

I set my cup down and gazed thoughtfully at the city below, drifting off to just seven years ago. Tears slowly threatened to fall from my eyes as I recollected the feelings of my previous nights of sorrow and despair. I had been having nightmares of slaughtering all of the people that I've killed ever since Hannah and I were sent back home. I couldn't even close my eyes for a second without seeing some unfortunate soul's screaming face as I took their life. I'd woken up sometimes and seen that I had tried to kill myself while in a nightmare. I'd even dreamed of killing people like my friends and my father. I couldn't remember how many times Hannah had to pry a gun out of my hands or heal me from stabbing myself with a knife within the last four months. Hannah said that it was just PTSD since she couldn't heal it herself and I need to see a professional for it, but I don't think that it's a disorder. I feel like it's something else, like something in my head is telling my body that I need to be punished for killing so many people. I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy. The last time I checked, I wasn't, but you can't be too sure.

My sobs and hiccups from remembering my old pain eerily echoed and broke the tense silence. Funny, I guess I never thought that this city could be so peaceful after what it'd been through. I sighed as I looked at the once bustling metropolis that was reduced to a great pile of rubble. Despair washed over me as I thought of how many buildings were destroyed, how many lives were changed, how many lives were lost in the battle that raged on the streets in front of me. I shivered violently as the air around me suddenly changed degree, the wind only allowing more cold to seep into my bones. A thought crossed my mind through all of my emotional chaos and almost checked my tears with its dangerous possibilities: How many people did I kill during the war? I distracted myself from this thought with a gentle touch on the smooth pendant around my neck, my fingers closing around the cold metal. I had received it as a gift for my seventeenth birthday (or was it my eighteenth?). Regardless, I ran my thumb across the back and pushed a button, which projected an image of a woman with blond hair and grayish-green eyes. I smiled as the woman reflected me, her mouth opening as I heard her say, "Hi there, Alex!" She waved as I saw my father walk behind her while he was talking on the phone with someone. That was my father, though: always busy, no matter what.

I sighed as I kept my eyes on my mom's flickering figure, thinking, "God, I miss my mom." She ran a hand through her hair and looked at me before saying, "Your father and I are having a hard time at work right now. Honestly, I think we would've been better off taking up that offer for the recon mission in Cuba than being diplomats in Nigeria right now." I giggled, even though it was no laughing matter, and felt my breath catch in my throat as my mom said, "Never mind that. The point is, we still miss you." She sighed and added, "I miss you a lot, my little angel. I promise we'll be home for your twelfth birthday as soon as we can leave, okay?" She looked down, her pixelated eyes welling up with tears as her voice shook, "I love you so much, sweetie. I always have, and I always will." I felt new salt stream down my left cheek as I reached out to touch her face, but I pulled my hand away as the hologram shut down. I recognized anger flowing through the depression I still felt about losing my mom and thought, "Why did she have to die, God?"

"Hey."

I whipped around, ready to punch the person who thought they could get away with seeing me in my state of disarray and sighed, realizing it was only Hannah. "Hey," I whispered hoarsely. I turned back towards the city and drank my coffee. "Can't help but drown yourself in sorrow before celebrating, can you?" she joked, joining me on the porch. If only she knew..."You know me. This is how I know I haven't been dreaming the past few weeks. It's so weird not waking up at dawn to go and patrol the borders of our territory. I almost miss it," I said. Hannah nodded and replied, "Yeah, we all do." She gazed at the array of crumbled buildings and sighed. "I still don't understand how everything went downhill so quickly, but I'm glad that we showed Hexxa who's boss," she finally said after a few minutes of eery silence. "You make it sound so much easier that what it was," I replied, finishing my coffee. I looked at Hannah's wristwatch and asked, "When's Recognization supposed to start?" She said, "Nine forty-five for us and ten forty-five for the public," as she stared vacantly at the city. I nodded and grabbed my cup, getting ready to go inside and get another cup of coffee, then gasped as I felt something vibrate in my pocket. I released my breath as I realized that my cell phone is ringing. I looked at the caller ID and frowned in confusion as the screen displayed the words "SECTOR 16 OFFICIAL". I answered the call, saying, "Hello? Residence 6723 on the line. Who is this?"

"Alex, I need to see you. Now."

I sighed in relief as my father's voice calmed the tsunami of emotions threatening to drown me in its intensity of power. "What do you mean, 'you need to see me', sir?" I asked, remembering to address him in the correct way in case Sector 16 was tapping into our call. "I need to speak with you about some security issues that we need you and your partner Hannah to cover for us," he answered. Great. I was on security detail, again. "Yes sir," I sighed, seeing no way out of this and asking for a location to meet him at. After that, I hung up as he dismissed me and answered Hannah's questioning look. "The celebration needs wall flowers today." Her groan of disapproval further aggravated my agitation with this assignment as she threw her head back and said, "Would it kill the officials to send someone else besides us to do security detail every once in awhile?" Oddly enough, I grinned a little as I watched her whine and moan, her lack of passion coming off now as somewhat amusing. "I'll get the bikes out, you meet me out there when you're done sulking," I said as I opened the back door and went inside the house. I threw my cup into the sink and turned the coffee pot off, then grabbed the keys to our bikes out of an organizer by the front door. My phone began to vibrate again as I stuffed the keys into my pocket, a growl of frustration escaping me. I didn't check who it was before I answered the call, since I assumed it was my father again, and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Hello, Alexandria."

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, warning me that the caller was not familiar. "Who is this? What Residence are you in?" I asked, trying to keep my nervous energy inside of me. No one answered. Becoming more alert, I listened carefully for any whispering or breathing. Nothing. I grew upset with each passing second, mentally demanding who this person was. "If you fail to comply, I will report this to Sector 16," I growled, anger coursing through my veins. "I will not ask again. Reply or be reported." "I'm coming back for you, Alex. Don't forget about me. I'll see you soon," the voice finally responded. Fear took hold of me, and my eyes widened as I listened. The line went dead, and a shrill tone from my phone snapped me out of the trance I went in. I shakily hung up and returned my phone to its pocket, unlocking the front door and walking to the tool shed. I grabbed two bike helmets off of the shelf, dusted them off, and fished the keys to the bikes out of my pocket. I put the helmets under my arm and pressed the button to activate and de-camouflage them. Hannah came out of the house, grabbed her helmet from me, and got on her bike. I followed suit, my bike already on and ready to go. As we headed to the meeting with my father, I thought of the phone call I received. Who was that mysterious caller? As Hannah and I zoomed past temporary homes and buildings under construction, questions piled up one on top of the other. When we reached our destination, the Siren's Bay (an old concert hall unfortunately turned bar), only one thought remained in my mind: How did that caller know my real name? I've never told anyone my real name before, not even Hannah. The only person who knew besides me was my father, and my father wouldn't tell anyone my real name without my consent.

"ALEX!"

I tensed up, returning to reality to see what Hannah was yelling at me for. "What?" I asked as she pointed at the building, too shocked to speak. I glanced at the ransacked bar, taking in any details that I saw. Nothing seemed out of place. Then, I looked at where Hannah's pointing. A flag of Hexxa was flapping in the breeze on the other side of the bar. I felt my blood run cold as a vast number of possible situations flooded my mind and made my heart pound insanely in my rib cage. I walked around the building, and found a hole the size of a crater. Following Hannah's gaze, I saw flames devouring the inside of the building, demolishing bodies strewn all over the floor, and choked back the bile slowly crawling up my throat. "What HAPPENED?!" Hannah finally screamed, her anxiety level at its peak. She was about to have a panic attack, despite the fact that she'd seen much worse than what was in front of us at that moment. "Calm down, Hannah. I don't know what happened to this building or those people, but this will not go unnoticed. Let's look for something that might give us information about what happened," I said in a calm tone, hoping rationality was on my side. She nodded, not wanting to speak anymore and cautiously stepped through the hole in the wall and gazed at the horrible sight before casting a spell to put the fire out. My nausea and fear slid back down my throat and settled in my stomach as I walked to my bike.

After opening a compartment in the back, I reached in and grabbed my battle gear. Once that was on and secure, I reached back in and grabbed my guns, daggers, and magazines. I checked to see if I had everything, grabbed a bag of Hannah's medical supplies out of my bike, then shut the compartment and camouflaged both bikes. I stepped through the hole in the wall and joined Hannah, handing her the bag. I loaded my gun and observed the place, my finger at the ready to pull the trigger. Hannah went over to some of the bodies that look more, well, alive, while I checked the really dead ones for any hint of how this massacre took place. I rolled one over on his back, and gasped at what I saw on his shirt: an Official badge. The world began to shake around me as I checked the other bodies and found the same thing. Finally, all of my emotions came out as I turned over the last one, hoping and praying that it wasn't who I thought it was. I was proven right when the corpse was overturned and felt my breath leave me in one, swift motion as I screamed, "HANNAH!" I got on my knees and sobbed uncontrollably as Hannah came bolting to me."What?! Are you hurt? What's going on?!" she gasped as she caught her breath from running. I looked up at her, tears still streaming down my cheeks, and pointed to the bodies in front of me. She gasped and whispered, "These are the men who gave the Commanders of our militias their orders!"

I nodded, knowing she was right about part of the reason of my sadness. They had no reason to die. They were just men who followed orders from the top of the heap. She looked at me and said, "Did you know any of these men?" I took a breath and shakily replied, "Yes." She grimly nodded, then watched as I stood and pointed to one of the bodies. "I met most of these people during the war," I said, not letting her speak. "This was Sgt. Calhoun, Col. James, Sgt. Ricky," I confirmed as I pointed my gun at each one. I stopped when she pointed to the one in front of me, his back facing us while he laid on the floor. "I never knew who this one was. Do you know?" she asked, her question being sincere and innocent. I nodded after a few moments and cleared my throat before telling Hannah, "Yes. This man was the one who gave our militia the order to stand down during the revolt two years ago. This was the man who told our Commander that we would be the ones to win the war. This was the man who got me into the war in the first place." Her face took on a look of confusion as she asked, "What was his name?" The air I took in left me in a shaky sigh, and I didn't respond for a few minutes. She waited patiently, the look in her eyes giving me confidence to speak. I looked back at the mangled body and said,

"This man was known as Colonel A in the war, but his real name was Nicholas. I know this because this man, this soldier, is my father."


End file.
